THIS IS FINDON VILLAGE — these Findon Chronicles were created by Valerie Martin and contain scenes from her home village of Findon,
West Sussex, U.K.    Everyday stories about real people.    In fact a potted history of the village.

THE CHRISTMAS PIG THIEF

Now all our neighbours' chimnies smoke,
And Christmas blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with baked meats choke,
And all their spits are turning.
Without the door let sorrow lie,
And if for cold it hap to die,
We'll bury it in a Christmas Pie,
And evermore be Merry.

Copyright Valerie Martin 2011

First published in the Findon News in December 2000

You and I cannot begin to imagine life in Elizabethan times in rural Sussex. It must have been a pretty grim place for some on the lower rungs of the social scale.

Publication of the earliest known map of Sussex was by Christopher Saxon. He did not show the town of Worthing as it only consisted of a few hovels near the shoreline at that time. Broadwater and Terringe were in larger printing on his map than Sountinge, Launcynge and Fyndon. Terringe was to become Tarring. Sountinge was to read as Sompting and Launcynge was later Lancing....... I expect you can just about recognise Fyndon as Findon.

Common misdemeanours inviting punishment in Elizabethan Sussex were:-

To be found wandering around the local streets drunk. If caught, the offender would suffer humiliation and be quickly popped in the stocks where he most likely quickly sobered up.

To be caught cheating a customer would for certainty land a shopkeeper in the stocks.

To be discovered gossiping would place the participant (usually of the female gender) in a cage with a contraption covering the head. A metal strip fitted into her mouth was sharpened to a point or covered with spikes so that any moving of her tongue caused injury to her mouth. A nasty experience. A convenient ducking-stool was also a punishment for any over-talkative female. This was a chair suspended over water and she was thereby “dunked” a number of times..... and sometimes even suffered drowning from her punishment.

Petty theft i.e. coinage or items valuing less than a shilling meant that the offender gained a public whipping..... or time in the stocks. The stocks were a busy place in Elizabethan days.

The most common capital offenses were:-

To have committed murder, rape, arson or witchcraft and these carried a mandatory death sentence. Commoners were hanged. The upper class were beheaded. In some instances the criminal was merely branded with a hot iron or lost a hand or an ear for the misdemeanour.

The most serious of all crimes in the Elizabethan Age was plotting to overthrow the Queen and known as high treason. The traitor was thus hanged, taken down before death, dragged face down through the streets by a horse’s tail.... and then the body was then hacked into four pieces. The body parts were duly displayed in a public place as a deterrent to anyone else considering high treason.

My story takes place just prior to the season of good will in the reign of Queen Elizabeth I in the year 1584, I have discovered that a Findon husbandman, John Tychborne, had the misfortune to lose six of his best pigs. Stolen! He was justifiably furious at the loss and the injustice of life.
This crime of pig rustling in Findon was committed on Christmas Eve of all times. The culprit was not another born and bred villager, but a labourer, Richard Chapman, from some distance away in East Grinstead. I have no idea why he was in Findon — perhaps he was merely employed locally but now we will never know for certain. It may have been the severe weather that got the better of him or just that he fancied some pork or bacon for his family’s Christmas dinner.

Whatever his reasons, he decided in his wisdom to plunder the enclosure of John Tychborne that festive season over four centuries ago. It was, no doubt, with much scurrying and grunting that he disturbed the animals. Probably followed by squealing as he grappled with their bristly bodies he made off with the six bonny porkers. The haul was estimated at the time to be valued at a grand total of thirty shillings.

Crime did not pay in Findon, not even in Elizabethan days, and he was brought to justice at the East Grinstead Assizes in the Spring of the following year.

The date of the court case was set to be 1st March 1585 and the charge was that of grand larceny (the charge for goods taken worth over at least twelve pence). Judge Thomas Gawdy and Serjeant Francis Gawdy sat in judgement upon Richard Chapman, their lips in all probability set in thin disapproving lines. After the hearing he was decreed guilty of the crime of pig rustling in Findon and received his sentence but on this occasion he was allowed the "benefit of clergy". In those days this meant that if he could prove his literacy he would receive a lesser punishment .

I have been unable to discover anything further of the pig farmer John Tychborne and can only guess that he continued with his Elizabethan style of farming in the village and kept an eye on his porkers as each Christmas approached.

You and I cannot begin to even imagine life Findon in Elizabethan times.   It must have been pretty grim for some on the lower rungs of the social scale.   

 Publication of the earliest known map of Sussex was by Christopher Saxon.  He did not show the town of Worthing as it was only consisting of a few hovels.  Broadwater and Terringe were in larger printing than Sountinge, Launcynge and Fyndon.       Terringe was to become Tarring.    Sountinge to be Sompting and Launcynge was later Lancing....... I expect you can just about recognise Fyndon as Findon.  

Just before the season of good will in the reign of Queen Elizabeth I in the year 1584, I have discovered that a Findon husbandman, John Tychborne, had the misfortune to lose six of his best pigs.     Stolen!   He was justifiably furious at the loss and the injustice of life.   

This crime of pig rustling 426 years ago in Findon was committed on Christmas Eve of all times. The culprit was not another villager, but a labourer, Richard Chapman, from some distance away in East Grinstead.   I have no idea why he was in Findon — perhaps he was merely employed locally but now we will never find out.  It may have been the severe weather that got the better of him or just that he fancied some pork or bacon for his Christmas dinner.

Whatever his reasons, he decided to plunder the enclosure of John Tychborne that festive season over four centuries ago. It was, no doubt, with much scurrying and grunting that he disturbed the animals.  Probably followed by squealing as he grappled with their bristly bodies he made off with the six bonny porkers. The haul was estimated at the time to be worth a grand total of 30s.

Crime did not pay in Findon, not even in Elizabethan days, and he was brought to justice at the East Grinstead Assizes in the Spring of the following year.

The date of the court case was set to be 1st March 1585 and the charge was that of grand larceny.   Judge Thomas Gawdy and Serjeant Francis Gawdy sat in judgement upon Richard Chapman, their lips in all probability set in thin disapproving lines.  After the hearing he was decreed guilty of the crime of pig rustling in Findon and received his sentence but on this occasion he was allowed the "benefit of clergy". In those days this meant that if he could prove his literacy he would receive a lesser punishment than hanging.    

I have been unable to discover anything further of John Tychborne and can only guess that he continued with his Elizabethan style of pig farming in the village and kept an eye on his animals as each future Christmas approached.

Continue if you would like to read about Elizabethan Sheep Rustling in Findon.

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THIS IS FINDON — was launched in January 1999 and will grow to be a historical record of life in Findon, West Sussex, U.K.